Bray Cliff Walk? More Like Yay Cliff Walk.

Real quick, I just want to start off by saying I’m sorry for this title. I’m so tired.

Being from the Midwest, I naturally make eye contact with just about everyone that passes by. I also do that weird half-smile/grimace thing. You know the one:

I also move out of everyone’s way when walking along a narrow path and there’s not enough room for two people to pass by. Of course I get annoyed when nobody does it first but does that stop me from doing it? No, our course not. My midwestern sensibilities won’t allow that. I won’t stop making that creepy smile either. I will stop making eye contact though. That’ll show ‘em. This was my course of action for most of the my hike along the Bray Cliffs Walk, a 7km, 2.5 hour hike along the coast between the towns of Greystone and Bray.

My journey began on South Beach in Greystone where I was promptly yelled at by a guy on a bike. I couldn’t understand much through his thick accent but I was able to make out “Don’t you have any fuckin eyes!?” Honestly, I could have spent the day in Greystone and been fine. It’s a picturesque seaside town with a beach loaded with beautiful cliffs and rock formations. Despite the heavy fog and the fact that it’s February, there were loads of people out on the beach playing volleyball and even swimming. Just full on just taking a nice leisurely dip in the sea. In February. At one bay, there was a group of 4 twenty-something guys getting taunted by a.. lets say mature.. woman to get in the water. One of my favorite lines she used was “it’s not getting any warmer you pussies!” They eventually relented and spent 5 minutes screaming.

The boardwalk along South Beach eventually ended and before I got the opportunity to get lost before my trek even really started, I happened upon a large group of people with backpacks and hiking boots and started following them, assuming we were headed in the same direction. I did question my choice for a bit as we walked through a lot of construction sites but some signs marking the start of the trail finally appeared just as I began second guessing myself. At this point I hung back a bit because I didn’t want the group to think I was some creep tagging along. It was also at this point (the beginning of a 2 hour hike) that I realized I had to pee and hoped there would be at least a Port-o-Pot (Plot twist: There wasn’t. There was nothing.)
At the beginning there’s a nice little overlook that gives you a good view of the cliffs ahead and I didn’t really think anything of it, other than “Oh that’s not so high." The trial is at a rather gradual incline and it wasn’t until about a quarter of the way in when I took a little detour off the path to find a bush to pee in that I realized how high I suddenly was. And no, I didn’t pee in a bush. An older gentleman with a pipe suddenly appeared so I didn’t. I’m certain that he was an Irish spirit bound to earth to ward people off from peeing in bushes. As I tried to pretend that I wasn’t just actively looking for a place to pee (this is a pee blog now I guess. Enjoy.) I got a full view of the coast and of just how high up I was. I honestly teared up for a bit. It was absolutely breathtaking. Fortunately that was the last of my crying. I would’ve have looked crazy stumbling down the trail crying about how beautiful it all was.

Again, trail was quite easy a few small inclines but nothing severe. I only got exhausted trying to figure which side of the path to walk on. I was in a weird state of panic that was like “well normally you stick to the right and pass on the left. But they drive on the left side of the road here… Maybe that’s the rule for walking as well?'“ No. Turns out it’s pretty much a free for all. I just stayed in the middle of the path and adjusted as needed. The trail does eventually get quite high up but you still really don’t notice it until the temperature drops. I think one reason I didn’t notice the height was because of how casual just about everyone on the trail was. It seemed like a stroll through the park for most of them. I saw some people with coffee in hand, gossiping with their friends like they just had brunch and were like “hey lets go for a walk.” Sure most were in like workout gear or proper hiking stuff but there were plenty of women in jeans, a nice coat, dressy shoes. I didn’t mention the men because oddly pretty much all of them here every day wear sweatpants or joggers or some other kind of comfy pant that I only wear in public when I’m hungover and picking up $30 worth of Thai food for one. Every day in Ireland is like that scene at the beginning of Juno where Ellen Page is watching Michael Cera’s track team run by and their junk is bouncing around and she’s like “All. I see. Are pork swords.” Speaking of views, there wasn’t one bad spot along the way. My favorite, despite the nausea, was at about the highest point I believe. You come around a large bend in the path and are smacked in the face with an amazing view of the cliffs/mountains with a train running down at the bottom. Like an opening scene from Harry Potter.
The trail took me about 2.5 hours to finish, and as I neared the end I noticed another trail veering off to the left that a lot of people were coming in and out of. So, knowing I still had a few hours left until I had to meet my cousin for dinner, I said “fuck it” and headed in. Turned out to be the path to the top of Bray Head, which has a large cross mounted on top. I was a little wary at first (it was practically vertical) but then I saw a bunch of kids and a few elderly folk coming down and I thought “oh well how bad can it really be? Maybe it tapers off.” Nope. Not quite. You are going to the top of a mountain after all. The best you have are rocks and tree roots to give you good footing and due to constant rain over the last week the ground was quite soft in areas. There was a huge shift in temperature again as I went up, resulting in simultaneously sweating and freezing my ass off. The fog was breaking as I started the hike so I was hopeful that I would have an amazing view at the top but about three quarters of the way up the mountain was completely shrouded in fog or a damn cumulonimbus for all I know. Lacking a view and having nothing more to stare at than brutish religous iconography, rocks, and fog, I stayed at the top as long as I could because I was damned if I was going to risk a heart attack for the sake of a 3 minute stay. The way down was easier since I was little more familiar with the terrain so it wasn’t quite as utterly terrifying.
After all that, I roamed through Bray for a bit until I posted up at a Starbucks for a bit like I hadn’t just hiked 7km and topped it off with climbing a mountain. I would definitely do the trail again. It was beautiful. It was gorgeous. It looked like Linda Evangelista.